Not Calm
by 0lizzybennet0
Summary: When Qui-Gon wants Anakin as a padawan and more or less ignores his actual padawan in the Jedi Council, what would happen if Obi-Wan actually got ANGRY back, instead of embarking on a long period of self doubt?
1. Chapter 1

**The anti-cliche story beast rears it's ugly head again. I've been reading all the Obi-Wan 'i am not worthy' and Qui-Gon 'oh, i actually have a padawan, when did that happen?' angst fics that are out there. One that thing that's struck me is Obi-Wan's calm acceptance and immediate feelings that it's all his fault, also his instant forgiveness of Qui-Gon. As Clark Kent says in Smallville, 'We'll spend a week avoiding each other, after that we'll talk about trivial things and _then_ we'll move on.'**

**This is definitely going to be a personal challenge. No humour! If I start writing humour someone send me a virtual slap! But yes, providing I can actually do it, there will be angst! Everyone loves a bit of angst xD, especially late at night with a blankie and a block of chocolate.**

**It's set when Qui-Gon decides to take Anakin back and make him a padawan, around the time I start shaking my fist at the tv screen.**

The room suddenly quietened, all Obi-Wan could hear was his own heart beating and his quick intake of breath. He blinked down at his clenched hands, next to him stood his master, hands resting protectively on Anakin's shoulders. He watched as the hands tightened slightly and gave a brief reassuring shake. Anakin looked up for the reassurance, which Qui-Gon quickly offered with a small nod. Tearing his eyes away Obi-Wan stared accusingly at Qui-Gon, had he really meant what he had just said? Feeling his gaze Qui-Gon turned and caught his eye with a stern shake of his head then turned back to face the council. Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, so it was true. Belatedly realising the council was waiting for an answer he composed his face and lifted his head up proudly.

'I am ready for the trials,' he stared straight ahead, looking at no one.

'I have some business to attend to now,' his master's tone held no room for argument, it was cold and dismissive. Out of the corner of his eye Obi-Wan saw a small figure standing in the background. His jaw clenched, so this was the reason for his dismissal now. Already Qui-Gon was walking away towards Anakin. Did he realise his padawan was still watching? Did he care, Obi-Wan thought bitterly. He saw Qui-Gon drop to his knees, a large hand was placed on a small shoulder, blue eyes were met in sympathy, comfort in soft words was offered, words that would have taken to long to say to others. Obi-Wan was left standing as a solitary figure on the dark concrete of the corridor.

Too many thoughts were going through his head for sleep to be an option. Turning he walked to face the window overlooking the city. Even at night the city was bustling with life, the hum and throb in the Force of all living creatures, the concentrated yet all encompassing joy of life. Closing his eyes Obi-Wan let his mind sink into that feeling. The lights of the city washed over his face, briefly illuminating the single figure against the glass. Sagging forward he let his forehead press against the cold glass, the cool spread all over his body, relaxing his thoughts and feelings, erasing. How long he stood frozen like that he didn't know. Slowly opening his eyes he felt calm, he felt able to think, his mind was clear. He turned his back on the life of the city and faced the corridor to his shared apartment.

Obi-Wan opened his blurred eyes to a rare sound. He could hear a mix of a deep baritone laugh with the higher pitched giggle of a young boy. The giggles continued and there was the sounds of running footsteps, heavier footsteps soon followed at a slower pace. Rounding the lounge room entrance he saw a grinning blonde head peeping from behind the couch, the head retreated with another high pitched giggle before reappearing on the other side with a cheeky grin. Obi-Wan observed the scene from behind and flashed a grin of his own at Anakin. Anakin returned it with a shy smile. Qui-Gon straightened from his knelt position on the carpet with a tired laugh, holding out his hand to Anakin.

'Shall I show you around the temple today?' He asked leading him towards the door.

'Oh yes please Master Qui-Gon!' The boy bounced on ahead enthusiastically, he suddenly halted before the door, 'what about Obi-Wan Sir?'

'I wouldn't worry about him Ani,' he shooed the boy forwards, 'he's probably at his friends.'

Obi-Wan heard the door slam shut behind them. So his master hadn't even realised he'd come home last night? Or had he simply not bothered to check whether Obi-Wan was in his room this morning? He could feel himself bristling. Taking a deep breath he harnessed his emotions and released them out into the Force. Feeling more at peace now he pushed those thoughts from his mind and went in search of his own breakfast. But even as he walked down the corridor towards the kitchen he could feel those emotions rising again, why had his master forgotten about him? Forgotten him both as a padawan and as a person. Recalling the words from in the Jedi Council he felt hurt. Wrenching open the door to the cooling unit and let the cold air float over him and tried again to recall the peace he had felt last night, but not all his feelings would disappear this time. He slammed the milk down on the bench, slopping half its contents across the floor. That was a jolt back to reality if nothing was. Feeling slightly guilty he bent and mopped up the spreading milk.

Late evening

Making his way towards the training room Obi-Wan found himself hoping for the first time that Qui-Gon would remember their arranged session. He pushed open the door and was confronted by the sight of nothing. There was no one else in the room. For the first time ever Qui-Gon was not waiting for him by the mats, lightsabre in hand and hair tied back. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and opened them again, but the same emptiness met them. Turning on his heel he stalked out of the room, letting the doors bang close behind him. He walked silently down the now dark hallway.

Reaching the door to their apartment he slid it violently open with a blast of the Force even before he came past the corner. Through his training bond with his master he felt surprise as his master registered the Force blast, he felt a questioning thought coming through. Obi-Wan felt his hands tremble and he slammed his mental shields up with such force his head seemed to shake on his neck. Pressing one hand to his forehead he walked around the corner and deliberately avoided eye contact with anyone. With two long strides he was in his own bedroom. He slumped back on the bed and closed his eyes. He would meditate. Then with a clear head he could later talk to his master, there was no point now when he was still angry. Obi-Wan took in a slow deep breath. He heard a hesitant knock at his door, cracking open an eye he saw a familiar blonde head look around. He felt a brief surge of jealousy, but that emotion was quickly overcome with little difficulty. Whatever the problem was here, it wasn't Anakin's personal fault. He sat up wearily and motioned with his hand towards the boy. Anakin smiled at him and sat next to him on the bed.

In the lounge room

Anakin appeared back through the corridor entrance. He looked slightly nervous and quietly sat on the couch next to the big Jedi master. Several minutes passed in silence.

'Master Jedi sir?' The boy's voice was hesitant, 'what's wrong with Obi-Wan?'

Qui-Gon frowned, his padawan had been rather quiet lately, he assumed he was busy with his friends. Suddenly he remembered, the training session! He patted the boy's shoulder and set off to Obi-Wan's door.

'Obi-Wan?' He knocked lightly, receiving no reply he opened it and stepped into the entrance. Sure enough his padawan was lying curled up, looking half asleep. 'I'm sorry about our training session,' he said quietly, 'I was with Anakin and I forgot the time.'

'It's ok,' his padawan's voice was muffled with sleep, 'we've only had it once a week for 5 years.'

Qui-Gon smiled and quietly shut the door behind him. Inside Obi-Wan screwed up the corner of the blanket and pulled it harshly from the bed.

**I wanted to sort of build up Obi-Wan's anger, you know how you sort of seethe quietly for a bit before someone says something like 'pass the remote' and you suddenly lose it at them.**


	2. Cold fury

**As a random side note, I hate gardening. If I have to pull up anymore montbretias it's going to get veeeeery ugly, I know all about inwardly seething at the moment! **

'Master?' Obi-Wan stood before his master, 'will you train me with me today?' He winced inwardly, the stress placed on the last word was more than he had intended. Qui-Gon didn't seem to notice, Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he felt relieved by this reaction or even more annoyed.

'Hm? Yes?' The older Jedi focused his attention back on his padawan.

Obi-Wan resisted the impulse to scream, instead he just shook his head and with a tiny bow excused himself.

'Obi-Wan?' Qui-Gon called after him in confusion.

Continuing to walk Obi-Wan gave a forced smile as he passed Anakin approaching Qui-Gon. He made no attempt to release his emotions into the Force, instead he bottled them up with a set face and walked determinedly across the training room. He heard the murmur of voices behind him, clearly the sound of his master and Anakin. So his master was paying attention to what the young boy was saying? Of course, he thought sarcastically, Anakin is the Chosen One! How could he compete with that? He clenched his fists.

'Bant?' He came up to his friend, bowing as he stepped onto the training mat.

'Oh, hi!' She turned around with a smile, 'come to be thrashed again? Hey,' her smile faded as she noticed his face, 'what's wrong?'

He shrugged and pulled out his lightsabre.

'Train with me?' He offered simply.

'Sure,' her face was still creased though.

Obi-Wan dimmed the setting on his lightsabre and waited while Bant did the same, she looked up with a question in her eyes as he nodded and leapt forward with his lightsabre raised. Bant lunged, front leg bent and back one extended, Obi-Wan stepsided and swept his arm sideways. Legs bent, muscles tensed, with a swirl of colour they spun around again. Lightsabres hummed and whined as they were brandished slowly, points extended as both padawans paced in circles. A clash of light as blue met green, legs crossed over in a hurried retreat, minutes passed, a feint, sweat dripped from an upper lip, eyes locked. Obi-Wan saw the slight tensing of Bant's eyes a moment before she lunged, he stepped into it and thrust his sword arm upwards, her green blade slipped off it with a flash of light. He gave a tight grin and lightly touched his lightsabre to her throat. She tilted her head in acknowledgment and bowed as Obi-Wan withdrew his lightsabre.

'Obi-Wan?' She panted, calling him back, holding up her empty hands in a challenge.

A moments hesitation, then as Bant's eyebrow raised he turned back with a look of challenge on his own face. Bant stepped one foot back and dropped her weight to that leg, her hands raised in front of her face. Slowly she beckoned with her forward hand. Obi-Wan brought up his own guard and flicked a sharp jab of his front hand. The fight began. Head ducking, Bant caught his next punch on the tilt of a wrist, sliding her hand down sharply and extending her fingers over his own wrist, tightening as she rolled it over and brought her other hand down swiftly towards his elbow. Obi-Wan stepped froward and with suddenly stiffened muscles, pulled his arm through the gab in her grasping fingers. Her other arm stopped its downward path and reached out for a stab to his throat. He danced backwards and caught her hand in both his, with a jaunty tilt of his head he bent her wrist towards the ground while pressing her hand flat against his chest. She gasped and aimed a punch for his chin, he ducked his head and continued the pressure to her wrist. Bant's aching arm straightened as her wrist was slowly bent backwards. With a grimace she loudly slapped her free palm against her thigh. The fight was over. Obi-Wan grinned and bowed. He felt tired, exhausted and his mind was blissfully blank. Bant screwed up her lip and gave a grudging smile and slung an arm around his shoulder.

'Now you get to carry me back after beating me up so cruelly,' she announced regally.

Obi-Wan had frozen, the room was empty. So Qui-Gon hadn't stopped to watch his fight with Bant? He forced his eyes away from the empty seats and back to Bant. She had stopped smiling and was watching him seriously.

'It's your master again isn't it?'

He gave another noncommittal shrug and just started to walk back silently beside his friend. She rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

'Some needs to tell that man he can only have one thing at a time!' She gestured wildly with her hand, 'it's not like this is the first time he's done this!'

'He wants a new padawan,' Obi-Wan stared at the blue matting, his quiet voice suddenly seeming loud in the empty hall.

Bant looked horrified, she opened her mouth to speck angrily then clamped it closed impulsively threw her arm around her friends shoulders again.

'I'm sure he didn't mean it,' she trailed off at the look on Obi-Wan's face, 'ok, maybe he really is just a bastard.'

Obi-Wan started to defend his master, then stopped. Why should he defend Qui-Gon? What was there to defend? He suddenly felt very angry. How long had it been since Qui-Gon had shown even the slightest hint he cared? Days? Weeks? A silent voice in his head told him it had been months. Wasn't he good enough, didn't he always train hard, didn't he always follow the Code, wasn't he always the obedient padawan, obeying with little question? So had Qui-Gon always been waiting for a better option to arrive, a chance to prove himself to the Council by training the perfect padawan? Is that why he was always distant? A muscle rippled along his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his side. His footsteps became louder and his breathing rasped.

Bant looked on in sympathy, her hand still resting on his tight shoulder. With a cry he suddenly balled his fist and swiped at the inoffensive punch bag as they passed it. Every item in this room had memories of training with Qui-Gon, suddenly he wanted to pull all of them down erase all thoughts of him. He stood hunched against the punch bag, his forehead pressing into it while his hands hung limply at his side. What was going to happen to him now, was Qui-Gon going to throw him out to make room for the Chosen One? He certainly didn't feel ready for his trials, no matter what he had said to the Council. Was he going to be failed at his trials? And shipped off to some remote planet, branded as a failure? While Qui-Gon trained his perfect padawan in peace? Obi-Wan bunched his shoulders and screamed loudly into the black leather of the punch bag. Eyes screwed shut he yelled hoarsely, the sound echoing around the hall until hundreds of Obi-Wan's were screaming in pain. The Obi-Wan's screamed for being abandoned and hurt, they screamed for being rejected and forgotten, they screamed for the lack of care. Tears rolled down his tightened cheeks and slid down the leather, his hands reached up and clutched at his short hair. Fingers dug into his scalp, shiny trails grew on his cheeks, his eyes grew red, his breath gasped, his throat burned. He pushed his head harder against the punch bag and screamed harder.

Footsteps echoed in the training room. Qui-Gon stood in the doorway, he saw Obi-Wan's slumped figure and started towards him. Bant turned a withering glance at him, he froze. She looked briefly in him again in pure disgust and contempt, with a short whisper in Obi-Wan's ear she turned and stalked past Qui-Gon without anymore acknowledgment of his presence.

'Obi-Wan?' He asked quietly, placing an hand on his padawan's shoulder. He felt the muscles tense under his touch.

Obi-Wan turned swiftly and threw off his hand and and turned his teared face defiantly towards his master.

'Yes?' He nearly spat the word out.

'Obi-Wan!' Qui-Gon looked shocked and frowned.

Obi-Wan continued to back away from him.

'Your _perfect_ padawan busy then? You sure you can afford to spend your time with me?'

'What do you mean by that, Obi-Wan, _you're_ my padawan!'

'What do I mean?' He took an angry step towards Qui-Gon, 'what do _you _mean?'

Qui-Gon now looked angry and stepped forward to meet Obi-Wan's stalking advance.

'Yes, but just for now, don't worry,' his face twisted bitterly, 'I won't be for long, will I? You'll have Anakin, you'll have fame, praise and a brilliant padawan! You'll never need to replace _him_.' Obi-Wan stood inches from Qui-Gon, tear streaked face set in fury, 'you won't have to humiliate _him_ in public to get him to leave! You'll never forget about him, he's too important to forget, that's reserved for the lesser of us,' he carried on relentlessly, 'you can be the perfect master too, no more wasting your _precious_ time with others, oh no, the mighty Qui-Gon will only focus one thing. That'll be a change. No more lower life forms for him, only the best!' A hand flew out and sharply smacked Obi-Wan across the cheek. He blinked, then slowly raised his eyes and glared into Qui-Gon's hard eyes in undiluted anger. Cold fury twisted Qui-Gon's face as he stood unmoving a hands breadth from Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wrenched his eyes away and stalked out of the room, kicking a mat angrily out of his way as he went.

Once out of the hall he opened his mouth and throwing his head back, closed his eyes and yelled.

Bant's

Ob-Wan knocked loudly on the door to Bant's shared apartment. He stood ridgedly in the entrance when her master answered the door.

'Obi-Wan?' She asked gently, her eyes inquiring.

He shook his head and shortly said Bant's name. Muscles were throbbing at his temple and his fingernails digging into his palms. Bant appeared at the door beside her master, took one look at his face and threw herself into his arms. Her arms wound around his back and she hugged him tightly. Obi-Wan froze for an instant, then his rage suddenly disappeared. With a ragged gasp he clutched at her shoulders and broke into tears. What had he been thinking? He buried his face into Bant's shoulder and sobbed unrestrainedly. In the doorway Tahl looked on in sympathy and slowly turned and faded back into the corridor.

'I'm, sso sorry!' Obi-Wan gasped, 'just, didn't know, know where else to go! He broke into a fresh wave of tears.

Bant patted his back comfortingly and steered him through the door.

Bant's room

'I don't know what I was thinking,' Obi-Wan hiccuped violently, his hands twisted together, 'I just, I just got so _angry!_'

'It's ok,' Bant said soothingly.

'No, No!' He leapt off the chair and stood wildly, 'he'll never take me back! He, he hates me!' He looked horrified, 'what have I done? He's my master!'

'Hey hey,' Bant gently admonished, 'you didn't want to go back to him anyway! Remember?'

Flopping back into the chair tears rolled down Obi-Wan's cheeks again. Bant's eyes narrowed as Obi-Wan turned his head sideways.

'What's that on your face?' Her voice had a snap to it, 'he hit you! He HIT you!' She leapt up in fury, 'how DARE he!'

'I deserved it,' was his dejected reply.

**Oh wow, I got to my third page and realised how carried away I was getting writing. All my fury at the %#$ montbretias coming out eh? Not sure if I planned for Obi-Wan to get angry so soon, but he seemed determined to have his showdown with Qui-Gon. Never really felt it before, but it's true, the story can just go in a certain way with you even really realising it. Qui-Gon's slap came out of no where, didn't think he'd do that. Just to clear it up, I'm NOT writing a case of child abuse, it's just a slap that didn't even really hurt. Just the _thought_ that he would slap his padawan is what hurts.**


	3. I know

The shock Qui-Gon felt watching his padawan leave couldn't be measured. He stood without moving or thinking, his mind and limbs numb. Looking down at his hands he found they were shaking. He raised them trembling before his face, the palm of one was slightly reddened. From where he had slapped Obi-Wan, his padawan. That hand had seemingly acted of its own accord, he felt no control over it, only felt the sting as it met a tear streaked cheek. He had had no idea what to do in that situation, he didn't know how to stop the torrent of angry words bursting from his apprentice's mouth. For the first time in many years Qui-Gon felt helpless. The older Jedi slowly lowered his hands.

With a soft sigh Obi-Wan curled his legs further up to the bed. His head nestled forward on his chest, eyes clamped tightly shut and face contorted even in sleep. Bant observed silently from her cross legged position against her bed, her heart contracted for her friend. Obi-Wan had spent the past hour alternating between crying and angry rants. He had paced up and down the carpet with fisted hands while raging out against his master, he had pounded his hands together with a yell before lapsing into silence while continuing his endless pacing. Then a small comment from her would unleash another stream of wild eyed looks and angry words. Suddenly he would sag mid-pace and collapse sideways with gut wrenching sobs and there he would stayed, his tears continuously flowing. At this point no words from her would offered any comfort and talk of his master only induced more silent crying. Finally he stopped shaking and a choked sigh his face smoothed out and he fell asleep.

Bant quietly edged her legs out from underneath her and stretched. She offered her exhausted friend a sad smile and crept from the room. Making her way into the central room she coughed and held her fingers to her lips. Her master looked up from the couch and nodded with a sad grimace. She stretched out an arm and motioned for Bant to join her. Suddenly feeling much younger than her years, Bant relaxed into the side of her master and laid her head on Tahl's shoulder. A tear slowly leaked from under her closed eyelid and slid down her cheek.

'Hey,' Tahl gave her shoulders a small squeeze, 'it's alright.'

'Have you seen Obi-Wan, Master?' Another tear rolled down her cheek and onto the uniform fabric, 'You'd never do that to me, Master?' She sat up and faced Tahl, her face a mixture of sadness and desperation.

Tahl gave her padawan a small smile.

'Never,' she said firmly, 'but we've had our arguments before, I know Qui-Gon has been under a lot of stress lately, I think maybe this just blew out of proportion. I have missed your training sessions before you know,' Tahl quirked the corner of her mouth slightly.

Bant's face remained deadly serious.

'You've never wanted another padawan instead of me,'

'Well, there was the time you pulled up my favourite plant,' her voice trailed off at the lack of humour in her padawan's, 'Qui-Gon didn't say that to Obi-Wan, did he?'

'You've never slapped me,' Bant voice was both sad and quietly furious.

Obi-Wan quietly slipped out of the room and down the corridor. He was eternally grateful to Bant for being there for him, but he felt slightly embarrassed now and just wished to avoid any further trouble. With dragging feet he crept through the door to his own apartment, he heard voices coming from inside. He listened for Qui-Gon's, it was echoing loudly across the room, it sounded cheerful and normal. The same deep baritone that always remained so calm, clearly nothing upset him. Obi-Wan could feel the creep of anger returning to him, so Qui-Gon was relieved to be rid of him? This had all gone according to plan? Standing for a moment he held his head up and marched across to his room. Resisting the slightly childish impulse to slam the door, he settled for pounding his fist into his pillow. The pillow with its ability to spring back into shape irritated him and he pummeled the soft shape, finally hurling it across the room in a feeling of irrational annoyance. Once seated on the edge of his bed he slid to the floor with a choked sob. He felt alone and unwanted. What had he done wrong? The tears flowed faster now and he sniffled miserably. A knock on the door brought his head up with a start, red-rimmed eyes blinking hurriedly.

'Obi-Wan?' Qui-Gon's muffled voice floated through the door.

Obi-Wan swiped a hand across his face just as the door opened. Qui-Gon's head appeared through, joined by body as he squeezed through the gap. Rubbing vigorously at his eyes, Obi-Wan inhaled deeply and tried to compose himself. His breathing trembled. He felt Qui-Gon's eyes on him but refused to look up, he fixed his gaze determinedly on the opposite wall and assumed a blank expression.

'I'm, I'm so sorry, did I,' Qui-Gon twisted his hands awkwardly while stepping closer, 'did I hurt you?'

Obi-Wan knew he referred to the slap, but those words unleashed all the feelings he was carrying. Springing to his feet he glared directly at Qui-Gon and screamed into his face. He told him exactly how he was feeling, exactly how hurt he felt, how abandoned, unworthy and useless he felt. Each sentence he bellowed grew louder in volume and brought him a step closer to Qui-Gon's expressionless face. He gestured wildly, throwing his arms about, not caring whether he was hitting Qui-Gon in the process. Launching on an attack of Qui-Gon's lack of care he started crying silently, tears running down into his clothes as he shakily berated him for the deliberate uncaring nature he was being treated with. Obi-Wan's breath started to catch and his voice shook, he couldn't finish. He gasped for air, his vision obscured with tears and one hand held out to ward off any motions form Qui-Gon.

'Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan,' Qui-Gon's voice was soft.

Obi-Wan felt a heavy hand catch hold of his shoulder. He tried to angrily pull away but the hand held firm and another grasped hold of his other shoulder.

'I hate you!' Obi-Wan yelled viciously, wrenching his arms upwards.

The hands simply tightened and pulled him forward. Arms wrapped tightly around his back and crushed him against Qui-Gon's broad chest.

'I hate you! I hate you!' He pounded his fist against the immovable body in front of him, 'I hate you!'

Qui-Gon bent his head forward and rested his forehead on his struggling padawans shoulder. His arms still holding on, holding until the pounding fists stopped and he felt a head slump against his neck. Slowly he relaxed his arms, bringing one hand up to rest between Obi-Wan's shoulder blades.

'I hate you,' Obi-Wan whispered miserably.

'I know,' Qui-Gon answered quietly, 'I know.'

**Well, Obi-Wan hasn't exactly forgiven him yet...but he's on the way.**

**That was hard to write! Not from a story point of view, but more that my cat was lying stretched down my legs. Impossible to type without looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. **


	4. I am sorry

Obi-Wan closed his eyes against his master's neck. A large hand slowly rubbed between his shoulder blades, the sense of care in that gesture causing him to feel even more sad. He sighed quietly, a last tear dripping off his cheek. Qui-Gon shifted and tightened his arms again.

'I am sorry,' Qui-Gon started quietly, 'I don't know what to say. I have been distant, I have left you and I have-' he paused, 'I have not been a true master.'

'No,' Obi-Wan agreed sadly.

Qui-Gon nodded, his head moving on Obi-Wan's sagging shoulder.

'I am sorry,' he repeated.

There was no response from Obi-Wan, only another breath against Qui-Gon's neck. After a few silent minutes Qui-Gon exhaled softly and gently pulled Obi-Wan back to face him.

'Shall I get you a glass of water?'

Obi-Wan nodded mutely. He expected Qui-Gon to leave, but the older Jedi stood before him for a few moments longer. His hands grasped Obi-Wan's shoulders still and there was an obvious reluctance to let them go. One hand trailed off but the other remained, Qui-Gon's eyes trained on Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan stared down at the carpet, if he had looked up he would have seen the sadness and anguish in his master's eyes. The usually composed face that was creased in concern, the mouth that was half opened to speak, the hand by his side flexed back towards Obi-Wan before being withdrawn with a briefly clenched fist. But he missed it all and Qui-Gon, closing his mouth and turning away, walked quickly from the room.

Obi-Wan sat with hunched shoulders at the edge of his bed. He felt numb and deathly tired, all he wanted was to sleep and forget everything. A small twinge of guilt flickered inside, had he really said all of that to his master? His brain slowly tried to process what Qui-Gon had said in return, he was sorry. Resting his head into his hands he rubbed firmly across his face, he had said everything he had felt, and now just felt completely empty. Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep for, his eyes felt gritty and his head seemed filled with sawdust. Obi-Wan blinked stupidly for a second, focusing back into the present. Raised voices came through his opened door. With a vague sense of curiousity Obi-Wan lifted his head off his bed, rubbing at the red lines dug into his cheek from the rumpled fabric. He could hear his master's voice, deep and subdued, and Bant's master, Tahl. He could tell where Bant got her bluntness from. Footsteps paced loudly on the tiled floor in the kitchen, Tahl's distinctive voice accompanying it. She was whispering angrily, obviously trying to be silent but almost going hoarse from the effort it was taking to control herself. A low murmur cutting through it was Qui-Gon's halfhearted rebuttal. Several words, Obi-Wan...hit...dare...love...padawan...unfit master..., all reached his now very curious ears. With a start Obi-Wan realised this was about him, he almost smiled, Bant must have told her master, who had come barrelling over to tell Qui-Gon off. Only one person in the entire Temple was able to order the aloof Jedi around, and that was Tahl. He felt a wave of affection for Bant and her loyalty. With a slightly guilty feeling he strained to listen to the rest of the hurried conversation. A disgusted snort and the slam of a door echoed through the apartment. There was silence from the kitchen now. Obi-Wan lay back down on the bed to process everything, absently curling into a ball with his head buried in the blankets. A few minutes later soft footsteps came towards his room. A shadow fell across his eyes and he felt the presence of Qui-Gon. The silence lasted and the shadow didn't move. Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed. A wave of guilt suddenly overwhelmed him, however the guilt wasn't his. The feelings were flowing from the link Qui-Gon's mind. With a ragged sigh the shadow crossed the door and disappeared, linked emotions fading slowly. Obi-Wan waited in the darkness for a while longer, then with sudden decision he swung his legs off the bed and padded quietly out of the door. He halted outside the door of his master's sleep chamber and slowly pushed the door open. There in the dark sat a hunched figure, Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan didn't hesitate and walked across to his master, seating himself on the edge of the mattress next to him. Silently he wrapped an arm around the shaking shoulders, long hair was hanging forward obscuring the older Jedi's face. Large hands were clasped tightly together on his knees, elbows bent into his stomach and his head bent above them. Obi-Wan sat quietly there, slowly extending his other hand to grip the top of his master's. He felt a tear drip onto his hand. Obi-Wan turned slightly sideways and rested his ginger head on Qui-Gon's hunched shoulder, he closed his eyes with a sigh. Together they sat in silence.

Love forgives.


	5. Part 2

**A part 2! (were those anguished groans I heard?) There's one nagging question, WHY was Qui-Gon rotten to Obi-Wan at the council? Did he honestly think Obi-Wan wouldn't mind? I haven't read a story yet that actually gets past him saying 'sorry mate, forgot about ya, won't happen again' If anyone has actually written one, then pleeeeeease let me know because I'd love to read it! Also, I think Obi-Wan has a right to be a bit distant towards his master for quite a while longer.**

The lightsabre hummed and whirred. Obi-Wan sprung and lunged, his face set in concentration. With a grunt he stepped of his front leg and landed on both feet, lightsabre extended in the finish pose. He saluted his imaginary opponent and deactivated his lightsabre, passing a hand over his forehead as he stood breathing heavily. Leaning forward, he rested his sweaty hands above his knees and briefly closed his eyes. He thought he had completed his exercise well, but it was hard to tell without a training master present. Around him were the sounds of other padawan and masters training together, the clashes of lightsabres meeting and the occasional delighted laugh as a young apprentice scored a hit. Qui-Gon had had other business to attend to today. He had left Obi-Wan instructions of what exercises to complete during the day, they had both agreed that Obi-Wan was to train for the Trials. Privately Obi-Wan thought it was more his master deciding and him silently nodding, but he was still anxious to pass the Trials. Obi-Wan's breathing slowed down and he straighted up, his knees clicking in protest. If he passed he would become one of the youngest Jedi knights in history, if he passed. However right now he was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep, something he didn't seem to be getting much of lately. Giving himself a mental shake, Obi-Wan activated his lightsabre again and adopted a fighting stance. His hand holding the metal handle shook slightly and his legs tingled, he clenched his teeth and swept the blade out. He was going to pass, he was going to pass.

It was after 8pm by the time Obi-Wan completed his exercises. He was completely and utterly worn out, his mind focusing on only one thing. Putting one foot in front of the other, not both at the same time, something which had happened a number of times as he wobbled off the mat. He had stayed well after the other training Jedi had left, pacing determinedly around the mat with his lightsabre raised. It had taken much longer than he had anticipated, it was much more difficult trying to figure out mistakes in his footwork or technique by himself. The end result was him doggedly continuing the exercise until he eventually managed to complete it satisfactorily. However he felt a sense of satisfaction, he had been able to finish his training by himself.

So it was with a vague feeling of happiness that he stood leant against the fridge, rummaging blindly through its contents in the search of something to eat. Obi-Wan's hand fumbled over cardboard packaging. Perfect. He opened to door to the microwave and placed it inside. Mindlessly watching it revolve round in circles he suddenly wondered if Qui-Gon had eaten, was Qui-Gon back yet? He tore his eyes away from the glow and scanned to apartment for signs of life, the furniture was too neat. A month of living with a young boy had definitely taken its toll on the room. One of the springs in the now grey couch was sagging depressingly after being pummeled by small feet and the small number of ornaments had been moved to higher ground to avoid being crashed into. As Qui-Gon had tidied it only this morning and it was still in a clean state, it was obvious no one was home. Obi-Wan involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief, he prefered being alone lately. The enthusiasm of a young boy was hard after days of constant training, or was it seeing the reason for his training that wasn't easy to bear? No, Obi-Wan frowned and pulled open the microwave door, his master had promised to aid him in his training as much as he could. Qui-Gon was trying to help him pass his Trials as well as he could, he was going to be there for Obi-Wan through it all. He had promised.

It was only later as he sat down with his lukewarm dinner that he realised he hadn't really answered his own question.

Obi-Wan woke to a warm weight on his shoulder. His shoulder shook and a voice bent close to his ear. Obi-Wan screwed up his face and tried to sleep on, he was so tired, couldn't they just leave him in peace? How could it be morning already? He rolled over and made to pull the pillow over his head. There was a loud crash and he immediately jerked fully awake. His head was dangling over the side of the table and his arms were spread across the wooden top, he blinked.

'You fell asleep,' his master's voice was soft.

Obi-Wan blearily gazed around the room, it was dark outside now, the lights outside the window were scattered and luminous. The clock glowed in the darkness, 22:30. Had he really been asleep that long? With a sigh he slowly drew his arms back and pulled himself up standing, hands gripping the table shakily for support.

'Bed,' Qui-Gon said firmly.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. With a whispered goodnight he walked carefully towards his room.

Qui-Gon watched quietly as his padawan stumbled from the room. He had been distant and tired lately, only approaching him for instruction on exercises, something which had been hard to give owing to him being busy. He had given Obi-Wan a list of suggestions for the week, hoping perhaps fro some spare time later to assist his padawan. He frowned, Obi-Wan had been trying to push himself so hard, he was clearly desperate to pass the Trials. After realising his neglect a month earlier, Qui-Gon was eager to help Obi-Wan pass the Trials as best he could. He wanted him to understand he would be there helping all the way, he was going to get Obi-Wan passing no matter what. Qui-Gon's eyes turned to the half eaten dinner abandoned on the table, he only hoped Obi-Wan would train within reason.

3 days later

His eyes stung as sweat dripped from his flopping hair into them. Swiping a hurried forearm across his head, Obi-Wan shook his head and continued his focus on his feet. For some reason he couldn't get the footwork right, he was becoming increasingly frustrated and close to giving up in despair. With a muscle twitching along his tight jaw, he stepped out the exercise with forced patience. Nothing seemed to be going right at the moment. Qui-Gon had been out every night. Maybe he really wasn't ready to pass his Trials. With a determined flick of his head, Obi-Wan squared his jaw and stepped again. He was going to pass.

1 week

'Obi-Wan? You were asleep.'

Obi-Wan opened an eye and peeled his face off the kitchen table, the remains of his dinner next to his head.

2 weeks

'Padawan, you need to go to bed.'

With a sigh Obi-Wan staggered towards his room.

2 weeks and 3 days

'Obi-Wan, padawan, sleep. You aren't going to have any energy left if you go on like this. You need your strength for training.'

Obi-Wan woke up with a faint stab of reproach, he blinked in the muted light and wordlessly walked from the table to his bed. He was only doing these exercises under the instruction of Qui-Gon after all, and all because Qui-Gon wanted him to pass so desperately. He was to tired to even correct his thought.

3 weeks

Everything felt so warm and fuzzy. Why was someone shaking his shoulder? Obi-Wan moaned in sleepy annoyance, couldn't they see he was trying to sleep?

'Obi-Wan,' Qui-Gon sounded concerned, 'you have to stop this.'

'Hmm,' Obi-Wan said sleepily, his hands and feet already pushing away from the table in a well formed habit. He made for the doorway and swayed sideways, eyes failing to stay open long enough. An arm wound hurriedly around his shoulder, Obi-Wan slumped gratefully against the support and blindly rested his head on a shoulder. His feet still obediently stepped forward and he staggered into his room. A happy sigh left him and he fell face forwards onto his bed, clothes and all. In the habit of many nights he lay sprawled on unmade sheets where he fell and attempted to drift to sleep.

Qui-Gon sat on the edge of his padawan's bed and quietly reached for his feet, pulling Obi-Wan's boots off. His padawan made no movement and his feet flopped limply back on the bed once released. Shuffling up on the mattress, Qui-Gon unclipped Obi-Wan's utility belt and placed it carefully in a pile with his boots. Obi-Wan lay unfeeling. Qui-Gon sat quietly next to him, one large hand resting lightly in the middle of his apprentices back. He studied his face, pressed into the rumpled pillow, minute lines of stress were visible there, as were large grey bags under tired eyes that have never appeared before, and even sleep did not remove the tightness of the muscles along his jawline. Absently Qui-Gon's hand moved up to stroke the back of Obi-Wan's head, his fingers between strands of bristly ginger hair, an action he had not done for many years. Obi-Wan's face frowned briefly and a hand flexed slightly, moving tiredly to sit over Qui-Gon's left hand. It was done involuntarily, Obi-Wan's expression had not changed, the frown had not faded and seemed to become a permanent fixture. Qui-Gon gently moved his hand to clasp the smaller fingers of his padawan, he had missed Obi-Wan recently.

**Hmmm, misunderstandings? Any suggestions for where people want this to go? I have an idea, but I'm always open for more!!!**


	6. collapse

**For the purpose of this story just imagine that Anakin was allowed to be trained, on the basis that he would become Qui-Gon's padawan afterwards when poor old Obi-Wan had passed his Trials. Also, I apologise if my medical description doesn't really work, just suspend disbelief, I'm very squeamish with anything medical and I'm honestly in no hurry to find out anything about strained shoulders. **

**Thank you for all the awesome suggestions! Several have been filed away in my messy brain for future use, I'll be sure to later note the lovely people who suggested them!**

Obi-Wan felt as though he had been hit by a speeder. His entire body ached and his head felt incredibly heavy. He had vague memories of falling asleep over dinner again last night, he made a mental promise not to do that again, he felt terrible. Rubbing the back of his neck, he winced and pushed himself up into a sitting position. His eyes fell on the neat pile of boots and his belt on the floor, he smiled, Qui-Gon. He was back. He told himself he had no right to feel it, but nonetheless it was with a slightly more cheerful air that Obi-Wan fumbled into clean clothes and headed stiffly out for breakfast.

'Obi-Wan Sir?' Anakin's large blue eyes lit up and he wriggled happily in his seat. He shot an excited look at Qui-Gon and then turned back to Obi-Wan with a shy smile.

Obi-Wan smiled tiredly back, he had somehow managed to become a hero in young Anakin's eyes. He was not sure how it happened but he now had an avid follower, someone who watched over his training sessions with unconcealed awe and found even the most banal of Jedi practices fascinating.

'Will you watch me train today?' Anakin asked eagerly through a mouthful of toast.

'I think Obi-Wan is very busy with his own training, Anakin,' Qui-Gon cut across.

'No,' Obi-Wan forced his mouth into an approximation of a smile towards the young boy, 'I'd love to watch.'

Anakin beamed.

Qui-Gon frowned reprovingly across the table at Anakin. Obi-Wan seated himself next to Anakin with a wink at him, waiting until his attention turned to Qui-Gon. Smothering a smile, Obi-Wan quietly stretched out a hand and quickly pulled a piece of Anakin's toast onto his plate.

'Obi-Wan,' his master eyed the stolen bit of toast meaningfully, 'would you like to have a sparring session tomorrow?'

'Yes, Master, thank you,' Obi-Wan tried to keep his voice neutral and he stared down at his plate to hide his happiness. Finally, he added internally. Finally he was showing some interest in his current padawan, Obi-Wan understood that Qui-Gon was more involved in Anakin, but he had at least hoped that his master would help him during their last month or so together. Then after that Qui-Gon would be free to do as he liked.

'Will you train with me too?' Anakin looked hopefully from Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon.

'Of course,' with a small smile Qui-Gon pushed back from the table, briefly resting a hand on Anakin's head as he passed.

Obi-Wan watched wistfully.

It was only sheer will-power that was keeping the tired padawan's eyes open. Even open they had a glazed and fixed look to them. His shoulder ached dully, twinging with each thrust and parry. His feet squeaked loudly on the polished floor and his breathing sounded laboured.

'You're working yourself into the ground, padawan,' Qui-Gon leant against the wall, observing Obi-Wan's training.

Obi-Wan started and fumbled in his steps, how long had he been watching? With a frown he rounded to face his master and bent to give what would have been a respectful bow, had it not been for the slight curtness in the jerk of his head. A shadow passed over Qui-Gon's face, he briskly strode towards Obi-Wan, hand already extended for Obi-Wan's lightsabre.

'You're holding it wrong,' Qui-Gon said shortly.

Obi-Wan inclined his head, correcting the grip of his fingers. Wordlessly he held the blade out for inspection. The arm holding it trembled minutely, Obi-Wan clenched his teeth and the trembling ceased. With a nod his master turned and walked from the hall. No emotion crossed Obi-Wan's face as he calmly stood, waiting for Qui-Gon's echoing footsteps to fade. Suddenly his face contorted and he slumped forward with a ragged breath, dropping his lightsabre in his hast to grasp at his shoulder. His tired muscles trembled and sweat beaded across his forehead, his white fingers dug into the fabric covering his shoulder.

'Obi-Wan?' Qui-Gon's voice came from outside the door.

With a gasp, Obi-Wan dived for his lightsabre, straightening just as his master came into sight.

'Don't work yourself too hard,' Qui-Gon looked seriously at his padawan, eyebrows slightly tightened.

Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself into a bow, briefly closing his eyes as he faced the floor. With one last lingering stare, Qui-Gon disappeared from sight.

With a grunt Obi-Wan pitched sideways and passed out.

'Obi-Wan! Oh Force, why is it always me that finds you?'

'Bant?' Obi-Wan croaked and opened one eye blearily. The room blurred and he awkwardly pushed himself into a sitting position. Immediately a wave of pain swept from his shoulder and he collapsed backwards onto the floorboards with a heavy thud.

'Obi-Wan!' Bant panicked and hovered over him frantically, 'Not good, wake up!'

Inspite of everything Obi-Wan couldn't help a hoarse chuckle.

'I'm fine,' he tried to arrange his features into a semblance of normality. His grey coloured face had a sheen of sweat over it, his eyes were screwed tightly shut, both white knuckled hands clutched at his burning shoulder and he wore an attempt at a brilliant confident smile.

'I'm not convinced, Kenobi,' Bant said flatly.

Obi-Wan started laughing weakly, however the pitch wasn't quite right and his face was creased in pain.

'Stop it!' Bant said sharply.

He continued laughing, coughing with a spasming movement to grab at the shoulder joint on his right side. The laughter blurred until it was part of a dry sob.

'Healers,' there was no room for negotiation.

Silently consenting, Obi-Wan allowed himself to be hauled into a standing position. Bant draped his good arm over her shoulder and encouraged him to lean his weight on her. With a slow shuffling step the pair made their way towards the Healers.

'Don't,' Obi-Wan faced twitched uncomfortably, 'Qui-Gon mustn't know.'

'Oh, no, Obi-Wan, he's your master, he has a right to know.'

'No,' he mustered all the strength he could gather and stood firmly, 'he doesn't have a right for anything, I agree with what you said before.'

Bant stopped and stared at him.

'You agree with me? Force, you really aren't feeling well are you?'

The Healer calmly accepted their story of a training injury. Although the glance she shot Obi-Wan suggested she didn't entirely believe him, but perhaps years of healing wayward padawans had taught her not to inquire to closely. Bant stood fidgeting in the corner, shooting pained glances at Obi-Wan's bruised shoulder and wincing whenever the Healer produced a needle.

'Well,' the Healer handed back Obi-Wan his tunic, 'I recommend resting that shoulder for at least a week, you've strained a large number of those muscles as well as causing internal bruising, and no-' her voice rose as she leapt forward hurriedly with outstretched hands as Obi-Wan tried to shrug on his tunic, '-extreme physical movements!'

'Extreme?' Obi-Wan's voice was anxious.

'Extreme,' she repeated firmly, 'so no lightsabre duels, training or lifting or anything that requires you to move that arm. Not to mention the state of exhaustion you're currently in, padawan Kenobi.'

Obi-Wan sank inside, no training? Moving slowly towards the door he quietly thanked the Healer with little conviction.

'No training?' He tried to sound enraged, but his voice only rose to a hoarse whisper.

Bant wordlessly wrapped an arm around his waist and rested her head on his good shoulder.

'It'll work out ok,' she reassured him, 'you'll see.'

It was with a dull look in his eyes that he said a muffled good-bye to Bant outside his door.

Rounding the door, Obi-Wan was filled with a feeling of overwhelming depression. How was he going to pass his Trials? He turned his head sideways to lean against the wall with a sigh, the cold from the wall spread over his body and he shivered violently. Force! His eyes shot open, he had a training session with Qui-Gon tomorrow! Turning his gaze onto his shoulder he winced and firmly pushed the Healer's words out of his head. Training wasn't extreme, it was perfectly normal for a Jedi, he halfheartedly convinced himself. Waves of dizziness swept over him, he closed his eyes again and swayed momentarily, his face tingled as the blood drained from it. Bed, bed was good. Sleep would do him good. Staggering around the corner he passed the clock without a glance, it was 5pm.

A clatter and the sound of feet woke Obi-Wan from his state of semi-consciousness. Qui-Gon! Anakin! He had to seem normal, raking a hand hurriedly through his spiky ginger hair he leapt to his feet and walked quickly into the kitchen, straightening his robes as he went.

'Obi-Wan! Are you going to train me today?' A small figure hurtled towards him, mercifully stopping before it collided with Obi-Wan's bruised limbs. A hopeful face stared up at him.

Obi-Wan at a loss for what to say, he opened his mouth weakly and searched for something to say.

'Anakin,' Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan's face piercingly before looking down with mock hurt at Anakin, 'I thought we were going to train together?'

"Were we?' Anakin answered in surprise, suspecting nothing.

'Of course,' Qui-Gon ruffled his hair and propelled him back out the door, 'you get ready and I'll be there soon.'

Anakin flashed a grin and bolted out of sight. Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief, looking up he saw it hadn't gone unnoticed.

'Is everything alright, padawan?' Qui-Gon was cautious.

'Of course,' he mirrored his master's words with a blank expression.

Qui-Gon looked slightly awkward and unsure, the words and actions of previous months lying heavily between them. He cleared his throat. Stretching out a hand he laid it on Obi-Wan's shoulder with a look of resigned understanding. Obi-Wan clamped his fist tightly shut and ground his teeth together, only by tense control could he stop a violent scream escaping his lips. He waited with a frozen expression for his master to remove his heavy hand. Qui-Gon sighed lightly and patted his padawan's shoulder. A muscle spasmed uncontrollably in Obi-Wan's cheek and one eyes squinted, perspiration beaded across his forehead and he dug his fingernails deeper into the palms of his sweating hands. Qui-Gon frowned and looked more closely at Obi-Wan's face, Obi-Wan stared determinedly ahead while forcing himself to remain like a statue.

'You are sure, you are awfully pale?' He inquired gently.

Obi-Wan nodded tensely. Something twinged as he watched the hurt flicker briefly across his master's usually stoic face. However he waited until Qui-Gon had muttered something and turned into his room before allowing himself to draw in a gasping breath. Was pride really worth this? Yes, he told himself sadly, if he had no pride, what else did he have left? Inside he had forgiven Qui-Gon, but forgiveness doesn't replace feelings nor does it erase doubt. Forgiveness only pardons and accepts. He was starting for the lounge room couch when a familiar head appeared around the door.

'Bant?'

'Who'd you think?' She ran her eyes over his shoulder, 'that looks swollen you know.'

Obi-Wan related the Qui-Gon/hand incident.

'Oh! You're idiots! The both of you!' Bant glared at him, her face softening as she took in Obi-Wan's grey colouring, 'you're going to kill yourself doing this, you know.'

'Thanks for the vote of confidence,' he said dryly.

'It's true! Now,' Bant flung herself sideways and draped over the couch arm, 'you're going to sit here,' she patted the space next to her, 'and tell me how you got that in the first place.'

Obi-Wan sighed and hobbled over next to his friend, her eyes narrowed and following his limping steps closely. With a contented sigh, Obi-Wan sank into the cushions, burying his head into the soft grey fabric. Sitting comfortably in silence for several minutes, he creased his face into a grimace and wiggled around until he was facing Bant. He met her concerned eyes without speaking and raised his eyebrows halfheartedly with a lopsided shrug.

'You've over worked yourself again,' it wasn't a question, 'you're determined to pass your Trials to prove yourself to Qui-Gon.'

'No!' Obi-Wan protested, 'I'm doing this for myself!'

'No you're not,' she overrode him, 'if you were you would've told him you were hurt, not to mention half dead. But-' she held up a hand calmly to stop his protests, '-you're afraid to seem weak and want your master to realise that you're better than Anakin.'

Obi-Wan frowned and met her fierce gaze.

'You're still his padawan, even though he's done bugger all to deserve it, just tell the man you're hurt! It'll be a wake up call if nothing else! I know you still love him, you've thought him as a father since you were a tiny youngling!'

Obi-Wan groaned and let his head fall back into cushions, Bant remained undeterred and shuffled closer to glare directly into his blue eyes.

'Qui-Gon. Tell him. Now,' she threw out her arm and pointed imperiously at the door.

'No,' Obi-Wan pushed himself up with a wince, 'because he's determined that I'm going to pass, and I'm not going to stay her with him and Anakin for any longer.'

'Well,' she paused and threw her hands up, 'come live with me!'

'With you?' Obi-Wan shot her an affectionate look of incredulity, 'you know that's not allowed.'

Bant slumped back in the couch.

'You still need to tell him, you know that.'

Obi-Wan shook his head and gasped at the flare of pain this movement caused at the base of his neck. Bant jumped and winced

'Oh Force, Kenobi! You've got to stop doing this to yourself, and not to mention me! It's not making this any better!'

_'... come live with me!' _Qui-Gon halted on his way towards the kitchen, the voices of Obi-Wan and Bant drifted from under the closed door.

_'With you? You know that's not allowed.' _His blue eyes widened slightly.

_'You still need to tell him, you know that.'_

The sound of couch springs squeaking and a gasp reached his ears.

_'Oh Force, Kenobi! You've got to stop doing this to yourself, and not to mention me! It's not making this any better!'_

Good Force!

Obi-Wan jumped as the door quietly opened behind him. He let out a small squeak as he tensed all muscles in preparation for an attack. Qui-Gon's face was composed and he nodded politely to Bant as he walked past the couch. The room was awkwardly silent. Qui-Gon's muffled footsteps on the carpet sounded very loud.

'Tell him!' Bant hissed in Obi-Wan's ear, drawing back to give him a significant glare.

'Tell me what, Padawan Eerin?' Qui-Gon asked politely from around the corner, stepping back into view with one eyebrow raised.

Bant's face was frozen in a wince, Obi-Wan groaned and rolled his eyes sarcastically at his friend.

'It's nothing, Master,' he straightened stiffly off the couch and placed a hand on Bant's back to steer her hurriedly from the room. Qui-Gon twitched. Obi-Wan quickly strode around the corner, pushing Bant out in front.

'Go!' He hissed and shoved her through the door, 'I'll see you _after_.'

'But-' she wriggled out of his grasp to face him.

'Go! Now!' He tried to force the door shut on her.

Bant struggled valiantly and stuck her head and shoulders through the door.

'Tell him!' She whispered urgently.

Obi-Wan flapped his hand violently into her face, with a roll of her eyes she poked her tongue out and withdrew her head. Obi-Wan sighed in relief and leant his forehead against the door, recovering his composure, he turned and slunk towards his room.

'Not so fast,' Qui-Gon leapt into action as he passed and clapped a hand firmly on Obi-Wan's shoulder, pulling him around to face his stern look.

Obi-Wan's eyes watered and he jerked free from under his master's grasp with a snarl. Qui-Gon looked as though he'd been slapped. They stood facing each in silence for a minute before Obi-Wan blankly turned and attempted to walk away.

'No,' Qui-Gon strode after him and roughly grabbed him again.

With his face already grey in colour, Obi-Wan simply froze in the middle of the lounge room and screamed.

'Obi-Wan!' His master yelled hoarsely and dug his fingers into the tunic to spin him around.

Obi-Wan screamed louder and pushed his hand blindly at Qui-Gon's chest, shoving him hurriedly away.

'Hurts!' He yelled viciously through a tear blurred vision. He clutched at his arm and ran from the apartment.

Qui-Gon stood frozen with one hand half extended, horror written on his face.

Obi-Wan jogged limply down the corridor, one arm flopping uselessly at his side.

'Bant!'

She turned from the entrance to the training hall, her expression inquiring.

'You told him?' She called down to him.

The young Jedi staggered sideways into the wall and screamed again, tears ran freely down his cheek into his sweat soaked collar. Dropping her training gear with a loud clatter, Bant sprinted up to her friend and wrapped her arm around his waist before he collapsed. Obi-Wan sobbed violently, his free hand clutching his right arm with wildly shaking fingers.

'Look at me!' Bant reached out and placed a hand on the side of his wet face, drawing his head sharply around to meet her anxious eyes.

Obi-Wan leant weakly into her hand and shuddered through uneven breathing.

'Padawan!' Qui-Gon halted at the head of the corridor. There at the end stood Obi-Wan and Bant, her arm pulling him into an embrace against the wall. She slid her hand across his cheek and peered up into his eyes, Qui-Gon saw his padawan lean into her touch and watched his shoulders tremble. Qui-Gon felt his heart sink, his padawan would chose her over him? This was not the Obi-Wan he had known, that Obi-Wan would have confided any troubles in his master. Force knows he was not one to strictly obey Council commands himself, but something major as this? He thought Obi-Wan was desperate to pass his Trials, Force he had trained himself hard enough over the past months. Sadness waved over him to think Obi-Wan would throw everything away, but somewhere silently inside of him a voice suggested maybe it was more that his padawan had neglected to say anything to him. At his shout they both leapt around guiltily to face him, Obi-Wan's eyes wide and hers defiant.

'Perhaps now would be a good time to have that sparring session?' Qui-Gon closed the distance between him and the couple with long strides. He watched as Bant quickly shook her head at his padawan, he looked helplessly back and mouthed something back at her.

'Now,' the older Jedi's voice was dangerously quiet.

It was true, one can actually feeling themselves paling. Grasping to lightsabre weakly in his hand, Obi-Wan tried to tighten his grip on it but the muscles refused to obey and it hung in his hand like a younglings. Qui-Gon crouched in preparation for his return attack, his blade held expertly in his large strong hand. Obi-Wan was at a loss to understand what had brought on his master's anger, it was a rare occurrence. He supposed it must have been his actions and scream in the lounge room, but knowing Qui-Gon as he thought he did, that would have brought on concern instead. Now he had to face this with the knowledge he probably wasn't going to last it out conscious. Obi-Wan felt slightly queasy. Gritting his teeth he swung his sabre in attack, Qui-Gon responded immediately and slammed down with a hard block. All the muscles burnt down his arm, the pain swept down his side and Obi-Wan forced to swallow thickly to remain standing. The green and blue blades hummed and whined around to face each other in the hands of their masters. The ground seemed to be on an angle to Obi-Wan, he vaguely thought now might be a good time to say something to his master. However a barrage of swung hits came at him and he was forced yet again to concentrate on standing upright.

Obi-Wan could feel his defenses being battered down, he recognised the attack pattern Qui-Gon was following, it was relatively easy, a remainder from younger padawan days. Qui-Gon would lunge at his upper arms, he would expect Obi-Wan to block and flick an immediate counter-attack at his left side. Obi-Wan didn't like the upper arms part. With a grunt Qui-Gon lunged forward and slashed at Obi-Wan's shoulder, everything seemed to slow down, the noise became distorted and Obi-Wan felt as though the floor had suddenly turned to water, his knees bent and his arms refused to work. Colours leached from his vision and the hall blurred on an angle. He felt his eyes roll upwards. A stab of pain flared across his right shoulder, the rest of his body tingled and went numb. A high-pitched scream echoed endlessly through the hall, joined by a hoarse cry, Obi-Wan's breathing sounded incredibly loud in his ears. With the scream still ringing in his ears and he limply fell forwards.


	7. On my own

**If this is overly emotional blame it on Moulin Rouge, I've been rewatching it and am now a pathetically hiccuping, sniffling, absolutely bawling thing. **

**Not to mention any elements of terror that might be coming through, injections on monday. I'm terrified, petrified, panicking and already a nasty grey colour. **

Obi-Wan cheek collided with Qui-Gon's chest as his knees crumpled under him. There was a distant clang as a lightsabre fell to the floor, a repeated shout, a persistent buzz, the feeling of support and something solidly warm pressed tightly against him. A hand cradled the back of his head, Obi-Wan let himself relax back into it. The room tilted on its side, there was a thud of two knees hitting the ground and he jolted backwards. Arms clutched him back, his neck lolled forwards again and his forehead came to rest against the warm figure. His eyes opened to the dim sight of grey fabric.

'Padawan!' The muffled shout grew more distinct, long hair brushed over his face and two concerned blue eyes focused above his.

'Shoulder,' Obi-Wan grunted shortly. Immediately his head was lowered onto the floor and hands probed gently around his neck and shoulder. He felt the collar of his tunic being pulled across and heard a sharp intake of breath. He slitted his eyes open again and struggled through heavy eyelashes. Qui-Gon tore his gaze from Obi-Wan's shoulder and lifted his bowed head to stare directly into his eyes. There was a deep sadness mirrored in the older Jedi's shadowed eyes and an unspoken question.

'My choice,' Obi-Wan whispered softly.

Wordlessly Qui-Gon moved his head away and slid an arm under his padawan's knees, gently hoisting him into the air. Obi-Wan bit his lip to keep from crying out, the hand across his back tightened briefly. He felt like a small, injured youngling being carried by his master, he closed his eyes, there was worse things to feel like.

SWSWSW

'Put him here,' the Healer bustled over with outstretched hands.

Qui-Gon laid his half-conscious apprentice down on the white sheets, never tearing his eyes from Obi-Wan's pale face.

'Oh, it's Padawan Kenobi again,' she pushed past Qui-Gon and stripped off Obi-Wan's tunic with business like efficiency, 'he tried to do something silly with that shoulder, did he?'

'Again?' Qui-Gon stared in shock at his padawan.

'Hm,' the Healer responded vaguely while peering under Obi-Wan's existing bandage, 'they never learn do they? Always pushing too hard, never listening, excuse me,' she pushed Qui-Gon out of the way again.

Quietly Qui-Gon wondered who she was referring to.

'He'll be right though it'll hurt rather a lot now he's managed to get that lightsabre wound on top of it all, rest, Master Qui-Gon,' the Healer's voice called from around the corner, 'this boy needs rest. Weeks.'

Images of his padawan falling screaming to the floor flashed before his eyes. He had hit him then. Qui-Gon grasped the metal edge of the bed to brace himself, he felt sick.

'Only-,' he swallowed, 'only rest?'

'Force no, dear!' A mousy brown head appeared again from behind a stack of white boxes, 'I'll be seeing a lot of you two over the next month.'

'Did he say how he injured himself originally?'

The Healer snorted ungraciously, 'Yes, a typical story, apparently he fell while training,' she sniffed violently again, 'of course you can't come by an injury like that from falling, I would guess he'd been training longer then his body could take. The things these padawans do to impress,' with a tut she seated herself next to Obi-Wan's still form.

Qui-Gon felt cold, Obi-Wan would forfeit his Trials on a gung-ho attempt to impress a girl? Bant?

'Take his other arm will you, dear?' The Healer's request stopped his sombre musing, 'he should wake up soon, it would be best if you were here.'

Obligingly, the Jedi Master numbly reached out to hold his padawan's limp hand, the smaller fingers sitting loosely in his. His small hand felt so cold, absently Qui-Gon placed his other hand over the top and brushed his calloused thumb over Obi-Wan's. He looked so young and vulnerable laying under the sterile white spotlights, his ginger spikes the only colour contrasted against the white. Qui-Gon unconsciously tightened his grip on his hand with an unfamiliar wave of protectiveness. There was a brief return squeeze across his hand as Obi-Wan's eyelashes fluttered over pale cheeks.

'Hello,' Qui-Gon said softly, he received a small twitch at the corner of his padawan's mouth in return. He didn't waste time asking how he felt, it was obvious already from the bandages that swathed his side. 'Why didn't you tell me?' The words burst desperately from his lips.

'My choice,' Obi-Wan repeated his answer from earlier.

'No,' Qui-Gon said calmly, clutching their joined hands tighter, 'I'm your Master, you should have told me, you _have _to tell me!'

Obi-Wan sighed and fiddled awkwardly with the corner of the sheet.

'What does a difference of a matter of weeks make?' He quietly asked.

'A matter of weeks?'

Anakin will initiated as a padawan, your padawan, in two weeks,' Obi-Wan fixed his eyes down on his clasped hand, 'you will have no obligations to me after that, and I will have no obligations to you,' he added quietly.

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to response, when the Healer poked her head around the corner with a little wave.

'Sorry, dears, but there's a boy outside wanting to see you,' she nodded at Qui-Gon.

'Anakin,' he started and released Obi-Wan's hand, 'I had forgotten, he will be wondering where we are,' he turned back to Obi-Wan with a furrowed brow, 'are you feeling alright now?'

'I'm fine, go,' Obi-Wan expression clouded, he gave a minute jerk of his head towards the door, 'I think I could hardly sleep knowing Anakin was lonely.'

There was a pause as Qui-Gon hesitated, his eyes flicking up to study his padawan. Obi-Wan rubbed absently at his shoulder and didn't meet his gaze.

'I'll be back later,' Qui-Gon promised with a nod and turned to leave, his boots squeaked on the tiles in the tense silence.

'You could give him my bed too if he's feeling uncomfortable, I won't need it,' Obi-Wan couldn't help but call mockingly after Qui-Gon's retreating back.

Qui-Gon stopped and turned his head over his shoulder to frown seriously at his padawan, staring back at him from the bed with an angry crease on his forehead.

'Would you prefer it if I stayed?'

'No, not at all,' Obi-Wan's hoarse voice was underlayed heavily with sarcasm, 'don't leave Anakin, Qui-Gon.'

'Master,' Qui-Gon frowned harder, 'I'm your master.'

'Sorry, ' he said blithely, 'so hard to keep track these days.'

'Obi-Wan?' The older Jedi took a hesitant step towards him, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and turned his head into the crisp pillow, resentment etched over his pale features. Qui-Gon stared seriously at him for several moments then shook his head and walked from the room.

'He does want you to stay, you know.'

Turning outside the Healer's door, Qui-Gon found Bant leaning against the wall observing him with a sad and almost pitying expression.

'Thank you for your concern, Padawan Eerin, but it is simply a matter between me and my padawan,' Qui-Gon dipped his head politely and walked past with a clear indication the talk was at an end.

'Is it?' Her clear voice stopped him, 'does he seem happy to you?

He faced away from her, but his stance indicated he was listening.

'Does it really seem like he is telling his master everything?' She gave a mockingly lilt to the word 'master', 'he's showed no signs of any unhappiness? He's not withdrawn or quiet? You've noticed nothing?'

'Obi-Wan is working towards his Trials, that requires dedication and focus, something you may do well to remember.'

'Then you've noticed nothing?' Bant repeated sadly.

Qui-Gon half turned to face her.

'I have noticed my padawan training towards his goal, an effort which I support, now if you will excuse me, I must find Anakin,' he nodded curtly.

'You won't find him,' Bant moved away from outside the Healer's door.

2 hours later

'Obi-Wan,' a voice hissed in his ear, drawing in out of sleep, 'the man's a bastard, ditch him and get a new one. Or better, sell him and make a profit.'

Even as he woke slowly up, Obi-Wan felt the corners of his mouth twitch up into a painful smile.

'You have a unique way of trying to cheer me up,' he swatted feebly at her head.

Bant ducked with a grin, plonking herself into the chair opposite and resting her chin on the mattress.

'What has he done to inspire this new wave of hatred?'

'The usual: arrogance, blindness, being a conceited, stuck up self important pr-' Obi-Wan waved her off halfheartedly before she launched any further onto the subject, 'how could he leave you and choose the Little Bratakins instead?'

'You don't like Anakin either now?' Obi-Wan asked mildly.

Bant shook her head empathic ally, her chin rustling against the sheet.

'He left you in here to go see the brat!'

'Wait,' Obi-Wan shifted with a pained wince to get a better view of her face, 'how did you know that?'

'The Healer wouldn't lie, I had to work very hard to convince her a was a little boy,' she announced calmly with a sparkle in her eyes, 'I wanted to see what he would do.'

'But, he didn't find Anakin then?'

'Nope.'

'And he didn't come back?' There was a small catch in Obi-Wan's voice.

'Hey,' Bant grasped his limp hand comfortingly, 'we're over that remember? We officially don't care now, you're going to pass your Trials and leave him to spend all of eternity with Bratakins. Then you'll become a famous Jedi and I'll be your faithful sidekick, providing comic relief and occasionally trashing you at sparring to remind you that I'm still superior.'

A single tear squeezed from Obi-Wan's downcast blue eyes.

'Yes,' he looked up suddenly with a small smile, 'I don't need him, there is nothing that ties me to him anymore,' his voice grew stronger, ' I can become everything I want by myself.'

'Don't forget your sidekick,' Bant reminded with a grin.

'I'd never forget my friends,' Obi-Wan squeezed her hand affectionately.

'And that makes you the better Jedi,' her voice was uncharacteristically serious.

'No Bant, that just makes me a Jedi,' Obi-Wan's gaze was now calm and accepting.

Bant stared up seriously at him, then her face cracked into its usual grin.

'He certainly proved himself to be a right bastaaaaaa,' her voice slid and she coughed meaningfully, 'I just be, um, going now.'

Obi-Wan looked blankly, then followed her expressively widened eyes towards the figure standing in the door. Bant strode past Qui-Gon in the door, offering him a greasy fake smile. Qui-Gon looked in mild surprise and unfolded his arms, seating himself into Bant's vacated place.

'I don't think your friend is very fond of me,' he remarked with a glance at the door.

'Why are you back?' The blunt words slipped from Obi-Wan's mouth before he realised, he closed his eyes with a small inward wince, not before he saw Qui-Gon's shoulders stiffen. However there was no part of him that wanted to correct those words, so he lay quietly in the silence.

Eventually the silence was broken by a sigh and a stiff rustle as Qui-Gon leaned his elbows forward onto the mattress. The bed shifted under the added weight and Obi-Wan's head rolled sideways on the pillow to face Qui-Gon. The older Jedi regarded him quietly for a minute, blue eyes meeting.

'Everything's not alright is it?'

'I believe that depends on your point of view,' Obi-Wan replied coldly.

'From my eyes they aren't.'

'I thought it was the other way around,' Obi-Wan's pale face was set and he held Qui-Gon's gaze defiantly.

Something flickered across his master's face and he drew back from the bed.

'Is that what you believe?' Qui-Gon asked finally, 'that I'm glad to see you injured?'

'Well you're the one who put me here,' Obi-Wan knew it wasn't entirely fair, but he was desperate to see emotions, any emotions on his master's calmly blank face.

'I-,' Qui-Gon tore his eyes from Obi-Wan's with a rush of guilt written everywhere, large hands pressed together tightly, his knuckles whitened, 'I-,' his pleading eyes met Obi-Wan's again.

Suddenly Obi-Wan didn't want to see it, his previous words with Bant echoed through his mind. Watching Qui-Gon bow his head, he realised this wasn't what he wanted. The older man was clearly torn by his sharp accusation. The part of his life with Qui-Gon was nearly over now, there was no need to cause anymore rifts between them, there was a large enough one already.

'Forget it, I wasn't being serious,' Obi-Wan said finally.

'No, you were,' Qui-Gon keep his head bowed over his clasped hands.

'It doesn't matter.'

'It does.'

'It doesn't, I said I wasn't serious.'

'No!' Qui-Gon raised his head to desperately turn damp eyes on his apprentice, 'you were!'

Obi-Wan felt caught, part of him wanted to reach out to his master, the other half rejected that idea as a start to the whole cycle again.

'Go, please,' he suddenly begged, 'please go.'


	8. Can't Have Everything

**I've been bitten by a wasp!! But at least it gives me more time to write as I'm sat with my foot up and surrounded by ice-packs. Evil buggers, I'm travelling with a flyswatter from now on. **

Qui-Gon walked slowly back to his apartment. His and Obi-Wan's. His padawan's name caused a fresh stab of guilt in his heart. How had he managed to lose his padawan? Lose him to the point where he rejected his own status as his apprentice, to the point where he was indifferent to his master? The memory of Obi-Wan's cold face turning sharply away replayed through Qui-Gon's mind, bringing a stronger surge of remorse and confusion each time.

Absently raising one hand, he slid open the door and was met with a cold and empty apartment. Glancing around the room he saw for the first time the striking lack of Obi-Wan presence. There were no books, datapads or even the brown boots half hidden under the couch that spoke of a guilty clean up attempt. Everything looked different, there were the possessions of a younger boy scattered every now. Qui-Gon sadly picked up a cushion from the ground and moved to replace it on the couch. He started in surprise. Laid out comatose on the couch was Anakin. He was laying sprawled on his back, arms and legs danglingly limply over the sides, his face smeared with a dark substance. Around were a collection of empty cartons and crumpled packets. Bending down Qui-Gon curiously examined one, 'Ultra Choc-Chip Ice-cream', Qui-Gon lifted the lid and peered inside, it was empty too. He dropped the carton and crunched his way over to the boy's side. Anakin's mouth hung open and he was snoring quietly, clutched in his grubby paw was a smudged note. Qui-Gon prised it gently out of his fingers,

'Dear Anakin, welcome to the joys of chocolate! Enjoy!!! Bant'.

So Anakin had eaten himself into insensibility. Despite everything Qui-Gon's mouth twitched and he coughed over a chuckle. At the noise Anakin's eyes fluttered and opened, he burped and sighed happily.

'Qui-Gon Sir, so-so glad you chose me,' he struggled to keep his eyes open, 'chose me to be your padawan.' With that the boy rolled over asleep again.

Qui-Gon's indulgent smile faded off his face, replaced with sudden doubt. Anakin wasn't his padawan, 'Chose me to be your padawan', that's what the boy had said. Obi-Wan was his padawan, at least until he passed his Trials and became a knight. With those words still fresh in his mind, a cold feeling swept over him. Obi-Wan's sudden desire to pass his Trials, his reluctance to talk to him, to meet his eye or even be in his presence. Countless images of Obi-Wan's face came swiftly to his mind, how could he have missed it? Qui-Gon turned a desperate gaze on the door, his forehead creased in a realisation that was too late. Again he wondered how he could have missed it, missed everything. His apology for neglecting Obi-Wan in the days after Anakin's acceptance seemed so pathetic and ineffective. And it had cost him his padawan. It had gained a new one, but quietly as he shifted his gaze to Anakin's sandy blonde head he realised he would rather see ginger.

Qui-Gon slowly released his breath and sank down onto the couch. The springs creaked tiredly as Qui-Gon's solid weight landed on the cushion, a small plume of dust rose into the air that spoke of months without cleaning. The Jedi master leaned his elbows onto his knees and wearily passed a hand over his face. How does one apologise? For so many things? Qui-Gon suddenly felt very old and tired.

SWSWSWSW

Qui-Gon slumped pensively in the row of seats around the training room. Padawans and younglings yelled happily and swung dimmed lightsabres with enthusiasm. Masters sat encouragingly at the edge, calling out to their apprentices and occasionally rushing in to intervene between overly realistic fights. Qui-Gon sat apart from everyone else, his musing eye turned on a small figure engaged in a mock duel with another youngling. His thoughts were occupied not by that boy, but by another one lying a room somewhere else. With a sigh he shifted positions and stared down at his clasped hands. Out the corner of his eye he could see a group of padawans sat several rows higher, their heads occasionally turning to shoot him frowning glances. In the middle of the group, talking earnestly and gesturing was Obi-Wan's friend, Bant. Qui-Gon sighed again and creaked around in the plastic chair to put his back to them. Already he had received several cold inquiries about his padawan's health, the emphasis always being placed on 'his padawan'. Temple gossip travelled fast.

'Doing well you Skywalker is,' Yoda skipped nimbly into the chair next to Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon gave a non-committal grunt and stretched his long legs out in front.

'Decided to train him we have,' Yoda announced suddenly.

'I'm glad, he his the Chosen One,' Qui-Gon's voice was honest but lacking in any real excitement. Down below on the mat, Anakin deflected a strike with a look of intense concentration. There was a painful pang in the watching Jedi's heart as he observed that familiar look, his mind imposing a different face to that look.

'Begin his training you can soon.'

Qui-Gon quietly absorbed those words then straightened decisively in his seat .

'No.'

'No?'

'No,' Qui-Gon repeated firmly, pushing his palms against the plastic to rise to his feet, 'I am glad Anakin is to be trained and I am sure he shall do very well,' he turned one last glance towards Anakin, 'I shall support him but I will not train him.' With a polite nod of his head, Qui-Gon strode out of the room.

Several seats above Bant's eyes widened and she scrambled hastily down the rows.

SWSWSWSW

'Obi-Wan Kenobi, Current Winner of the Banobi Sparring Contest, you won't guess what Qui-Gon just said!' Bant seated herself next to him with an air of smugness about her.

'Hm?' Obi-Wan turned a vaguely curious look on her.

'Oh honestly,' she smacked his hand impatiently, 'be a bit more excited! He just said,' she leant forward, 'he's not going to train Bratakins!' She nodded vigorously and then rolled her eyes at his lack of response, 'come on Kenobi, show some surprise.'

Obi-Wan felt shocked, Qui-Gon wasn't going train the Chosen One? Why?

'Well, I feel sorry for Anakin, he will miss out on having a good master,' he replied carefully, not quite meeting Bant's eye.

'Yeeeah, but he wasn't a good master,' Bant said slowly, staring oddly at him from her perch on the side of the bed.

'I don't really mind what Qui-Gon does or doesn't do anymore, Bant,' Obi-Wan lifted his clear blue eyes to gaze seriously at her.

Bant matched his steady look, then she shifted her eyes down and shrugged.

'I know I'm not the man's biggest fan,' she flashed her eyes up with a shadow of a smile, 'but who are you hurting more? You or him?'

Obi-Wan didn't reply immediately, when he did his voice was calm and quiet.

'I'm not hurting anyone.'

SWSWSWSWSW

Obi-Wan lay still under the muted lights. His eyelashes rested peacefully against pale cheeks and his soft regular breathes fluttered the edge of the sheet. Loosely clenched hands lay heavily across his side, rising and falling with each breath. Despite the late hour displayed in flashing digits across the room, Obi-Wan was unable to sleep. And despite his words to Bant earlier, he was unable to shake the wish to still have Qui-Gon as a part of his life. Laying alone in the empty room, he allowed one cold tear to trickle down his cheek. Why did Qui-Gon choose Anakin over him that day? That's what it all came down to in the end. Everything else, all actions and words came from that one event in the Jedi Council room, when Qui-Gon said he no longer wished to have Obi-Wan as a padawan. Now Qui-Gon said he wasn't going to train Anakin as a padawan either, was that Obi-Wan's fault too? No change came over Obi-Wan's face in the soft light, only one more solitary tear escaped from the corner of his closed eye. It hung quivering on the edge of his eyelash before splashing down his cheekbone. He didn't feel like an independent man, he felt like a lonely padawan.

Soft footsteps echoed across the tiles and the door slid noiselessly open. Obi-Wan kept his cheek pressed against the pillow and didn't open his eyes. Whoever it was they would leave soon enough. The footsteps stopped beside his bed and a heavy sigh sounded in the dark silence, a warm weight descended to rest Obi-Wan's frozen cheek, turning his face gently from the pillow. Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes and stared into a pair of tired blue eyes, framed by dozens of small lines of stress and sadness. Obi-Wan stared calmly back without speaking, Qui-Gon's eyes slowly filled with tears and he pressed his hand tightly against Obi-Wan's still cheek with a small quiver. Nothing changed in Obi-Wan's expression, then his face suddenly twisted and he hurled himself forward. Ignoring the flare in his shoulder, he buried his head into Qui-Gon's neck with a bitter cry. Arms wrapped around his back and held him tightly, one shaking hand moved to hold the back of his head and Qui-Gon sobbed silently. Tears streaked down Obi-Wan's face, he wasn't sure whose they were. Qui-Gon's entire form shook with remorse as he held his padawan.

'Why?' Obi-Wan choked out desperately.

There was no spoken response from Qui-Gon, only an increase in the grip around around Obi-Wan's back and the sound of continued crying.

'_Someone should have explained I can't have everything I want, padawan,'_ Obi-Wan grinned shakily through his tears at the thought flowing across their long disused mind-link.

'_You still wanted me as your padawan?'_

_'I didn't realise how you would take it, I'm so,' _Qui-Gon drew a shuddering breath, '_so sorry. Anakin can be trained by someone else.'_

_'You do want me as you padawan though?'_ Obi-Wan felt a fleeting feeling of dread.

'Yes!' Qui-Gon pulled back Obi-Wan's head to meet his downcast eyes, 'yes! And it should be _me_ asking whether you want me as your master!' A flicker of apprehension crossed his damp eyes as he looked into Obi-Wan's guarded ones.

There was what felt like a long stretch of silence as Obi-Wan stared through the dim light at Qui-Gon's anxious face. Then with a sharp crack, Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and slapped Qui-Gon firmly across the side of the face. Qui-Gon closed his eyes and made no movement. Obi-Wan's face erupted into a grin and he roughly pulled his master into a hug. There were no more words spoken, only a grateful sigh from Qui-Gon.

It was with a rush of memories that Obi-Wan woke up in the Healers the next morning. Raising his left hand to gingerly rub his neck he peered around the room. He didn't have to look far. Half slumped off the seat next to his bed was Qui-Gon, arms and head flopped over the small plastic railing and onto Obi-Wan's bed. The head sank half into his pillow was snoring contentedly as only a relaxed Qui-Gon could. Obi-Wan grinned.

'Hey,' a distinctive voice came from around the door as Bant tromped loudly in.

'Hey,' Obi-Wan responded cheerfully, turning his head to give her a wide smile.

'Ah, I see you're delighted by my presence as always, but I regret to say I will not be signing autographs toda...' her voice trailed off as her eyes fell on Qui-Gon, she raised one eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

He simply smiled back at her, she gave him an exasperated look then grinned widely, there was no need to speak. Her grin then tilted at the corner and she arched an eyebrow again.

'Sooo, had a good night?' She winked, Qui-Gon choose that moment to snuffle sleepily and throw an arm heavily across Obi-Wan's shoulders.

Obi-Wan looked across at Qui-Gon and for the first time in months, threw back his head and laughed. There was a snort as Qui-Gon jerked blearily awake, his eyes travelling around the room before focusing on Bant. His face sobered and he sat up straight.

'I have to ask you something, padawan,' his voice was serious, 'are you in a relationship with Padawan Eerin?'

The look on Bant's face suggested she had just been hit over the head with a heavy object. Repeatedly. Her eyes widened significantly and she suddenly doubled over with a badly concealed choke.

'With Obi-Wan?' She gasped in amused disbelief.

'I'm not that bad,' Obi-Wan retorted, somewhat put out by her reaction.

'You're gorgeous, cutie,' she assured, winking at him, 'but-' she suddenly snorted again.

'Shall I take that as a no?' Qui-Gon's mouth twitched at the disgruntled look on Obi-Wan's face.

'What ever gave you that idea in the first place?' Bant asked curiously, recovering slightly.

'No matter,' the older Jedi looked uncomfortable.

Obi-Wan still stared in curious shock at Qui-Gon, Bant glanced between the two of them and bit her lip, quietly shuffling backwards. Obi-Wan kept his gaze steadily on Qui-Gon.

'Why?' Obi-Wan's voice had a slight warning edge in it.

There was a sigh as Qui-Gon tiredly rubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes before opening them to look thoughtfully at his padawan.

'I think I've been missing quite a few things over the months, Obi-Wan,' he said honestly, 'the explanations for things I'd seen,' he broke eye contact uneasily again, staring at his hands, 'I missed everything else and only saw a,' there was another pause, 'friendship between you and Bant.' There was a long silence between the two Jedi. 'Why didn't you tell me about your shoulder?' Qui-Gon said finally with a note of sad reproach.

'I wanted to pass my Trials, fast,' Obi-Wan said bluntly, catching himself quickly before anything else slipped out. The answering nod he received showed an understanding that the meaning had not gone unnoticed.

'But I _hurt _you,' Qui-Gon's eyes fell on Obi-Wan's bandaged shoulder before moving back up to his face, 'in more ways than one,' he added quietly.

Another silence fell between them, not entirely awkward though.

'Tell me every from now on?' There was an uncharacteristic question in Qui-Gon's voice, his blue eyes meeting Obi-Wan's anxiously.

'Keep me as your padawan?' Obi-Wan countered with a small shadow of a smile.

Qui-Gon returned the smile and held out on large hand. Obi-Wan stretched out his hand and grasped it warmly. Everything unspoken was said in the tight grip of their hands.

Epilogue:

Obi-Wan could see Qui-Gon's annoyed frustration. His large hands were gripping the controls so tightly their knuckles were turning white, his fingers digging into the metal fiercely. A muscle rippled along his jawline and veins throbbed at his temple. A loud aggressive beeep sounded repeatedly over the noise of Coruscant's traffic, Qui-Gon ground his teeth together. The obnoxious beep blared again and Qui-Gon almost tore the controls off the speeder in an attempt to remain calm.

'Can'..Can'.?' The words squeezed out from between clenched teeth.

'Let me deal with it,' Obi-Wan twisted in his seat to stare across the speeder at the ugly Hutt glaring at them from the speeder behind.

The Hutt shook his fist angrily and shouted at Obi-Wan, the words lost in the noise of the traffic but their overall meaning getting through. With a slow gesture, Obi-Wan brought his hand to his mouth and pursed his lips at the Hutt, blowing a kiss at him. The Hutt's eyes bulged in shock, Obi-Wan opened his mouth and gave an exaggerated wink. The traffic started moving forward again, but the Hutt in the red speeder remained stopped in horrified disbelief.

'See, no problem,' Obi-Wan twisted back in his seat and hummed lightly.

Qui-Gon stared at him.

'You've been visiting Bant again, haven't you?'

**I know, there's no long explanation from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan, but in all honesty they're _guys_ and none of the fights between guys I've known have ended with a heart to heart discussion. I did write more, but chopped it out as it seemed a bit overly sappy and I'm on a strict NO-OVERLY MUSHY-NESS thing...might have broken that vow a bit...but not toooo much I hope. **

**MASSIVE thank you to allll my Lovely Reviewers, you should have heard the happy little squeaks when I checked my inbox. THANKS!!!!!!!! I've loved writing this story, torturing the characters and everything...**


End file.
